Near midnight, Lena woke him.
"Someone is coming."
Emtt sat up.
He listened.
Hoofbeats.
Three horses.
Maybe four.
He looked at Mara.
"How long?"
"Minutes."
Emtt extinguished the fire.
The women moved into the shadows.
He drew his revolver.
There were six rounds.
Six chances.
No more.
A voice called from the darkness.
"Emtt Cordell."
He did not answer.
The voice came again.
"You cannot hide them."
Emtt looked at Mara.
She shook her head.
The riders stopped outside the ravine.
Then the younger man spoke.
"They belong to the council."
Emtt smiled without humor.
"No."
The man shouted.
"Move aside."
Emtt stepped into the moonlight.
"You already had them."
A pause.
"And you gave them away."
"I gave them a chance."
The first gunshot struck the stone beside his head.
Emtt fired once.
Not at a man.
At the lantern hanging from a saddle.
Darkness swallowed the riders.
Mara understood immediately.
She grabbed Nell.
Lena pulled Sera toward the opposite side of the ravine.
Emtt fired again.
A horse screamed.
Someone cursed.
They ran.
The ravine narrowed ahead.
Emtt knew the land.
He had traveled through this country years before.
There was a hidden trail leading toward an abandoned cattle station called Mercy Flats.
If they reached it before dawn, they might survive.
If the riders followed, they would be trapped.
They ran until Nell collapsed.
This time Emtt carried her.
She protested.
He ignored her.
"You gave away your horse," she whispered.
"Yes."
"Your rifle."
"Yes."
"Your money."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Emtt kept walking.
"Because I was tired of seeing people think money made a life worth more than another person's."
Nell was silent.
After a while she whispered:
"You are strange."
"I've been told."
They reached Mercy Flats just before sunrise.
The station had been abandoned for years.
But someone had repaired the well.
Someone had also left tools, blankets, dried beans, and a stack of firewood inside the cabin.
Emtt frowned.
"This place wasn't empty."
Mara looked around.
"No."
A sound came from behind the cabin.
Everyone froze.
A woman stepped into view.
She was old, perhaps seventy.
She held a shotgun.
"Who are you?"
Emtt raised his hands.
"Travelers."
"That answer gets people killed."
"Then we're five dead travelers."
The old woman studied them.
Her eyes settled on the four women.
Then on Emtt.
"You came from Red Willow."
It wasn't a question.
Mara nodded.
The old woman lowered the shotgun.
"Come inside."
They did.
Her name was Abigail Mercer.
She had lived alone at Mercy Flats for eleven years.
She listened while Mara explained what happened.
When the story ended, Abigail stared into the fire.
"They have done this before."
Emtt's expression changed.
"How many times?"
"Seven."
Mara looked horrified.
"Seven women?"
"Seven groups."
"Where did they go?"
"Most disappeared."
Emtt's jaw tightened.
"Disappeared how?"
Abigail looked at him.
"That's what you should be asking."
She went to a wooden chest and opened it.
Inside were papers.
Names.
Dates.
Records.
Emtt picked up one sheet.
Every woman had been accused of the same thing.
Failure to produce children.
Every woman had been removed.
Every husband had claimed innocence.